Aoyagi Doesn't Lead Often
by Momiji Colors
Summary: A look at Teshima and Aoyagi's intimate relationship on a night when Aoyagi decides he wants to take the lead. PWP, very little actual plot. Really cute and sexy. M/M Enjoy!


A/N: I do not own Yowamushi Pedal or any of the characters, I just like to daydream about them. This is an M rated fanfiction for a reason. There are detailed descriptions of sex. It is between two male characters. Don't like, don't read. Otherwise, enjoy! Also, it's implied that the characters are past high school and in an established, healthy relationship. Leave feedback, comments, etc. No flames please.

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 **Aoyagi Doesn't Lead Often** by Momiji Colors **  
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Aoyagi doesn't lead often. He prefers to follow, let Teshima take the initiative, whether it's engaging in conversation or setting their pace when biking in tandem. He knows his own pace can be erratic without someone there to regulate it for him, just like how his vocal interjections in a conversation are sporadic and often catch others off guard. Teshima evens him out, fills in the blanks so others don't feel so lost around him, and fine tunes their pacing so when they are racing, their tires are so close that all logic says they should be sprawled, bloodied and bruised on the pavement amongst a tangle of bent aluminum…but they aren't and that intimacy coupled with such risk is the best feeling in the world to Aoyagi.

Their romantic and sexual encounters with each other are much the same; Aoyagi doesn't lead often. He is, however, a secret romantic so when he wants to engage, all it takes to make Teshima aware is a lingering caress along the outside of his thigh or across the top of his shoulder blades. Or if Aoyagi is feeling really bold, he will come up behind Teshima, and casually rest his chin on the other's shoulder while one hand strays to Teshima's bottom and gives the gentlest suggestive squeeze. Teshima's eyes usually close when he feels Aoyagi's hand there, his breath momentarily hitching, and when his lids flutter open, there is this knowing, lustful, playful look in his eyes and flickering in the smile on his lips that makes Aoyagi burn within.

Aoyagi does this one evening when they're at Teshima's house. They've just finished dinner and Teshima is standing at the sink, washing the last of the dishes. Aoyagi can't help it when his gaze strays towards his boyfriend's back and his mind begins undressing him from those baggy cargo shorts and t-shirt down to that lean form as he packs away the leftovers and puts them in the refrigerator. Not that he doesn't daydream about Teshima on a regular basis, but when they haven't had the time to be intimate in a while and he's been anticipating this moment all day, his body is in no mood for much more delay. He sidles up to Teshima and nudges his face into Teshima's restrained ponytail of curls, one hand dropping to a sculpted left hip as the other wanders downwards, almost shyly, to rest on the curve of Teshima's backside. Teshima's breath hitches and the motions of his dishwashing slow to a halt. This time Aoyagi has his eyes closed, pressed against the collar of Teshima's shirt, a hair's breadth away from the skin of his neck like Aoyagi is denying himself from taking too much at once. A shiver runs down his spine when Teshima's body relaxes again slightly, humming now with a kind of anticipation. He can see clearly in his mind's eye the expression on his boyfriend's face: eyes closed and lower lip between his teeth.

The bowl Teshima was washing rests cupped in his immobile hand opposite the other covered in soap suds from a sponge squeezed tight as the water runs forgotten from the faucet straight down the drain. Teshima turns his head to look over his shoulder at Aoyagi who glances up at him with those large eyes from under his bangs with a look of playful determination and want.

"Hello," Teshima says quietly with the same inflection he might use to greet the pleasant but unexpected surprise of a kitten on his doorstep.

"Hi," Aoyagi answers and his voice is little more than a breath out of his open mouth but those flirtatious eyes are speaking volumes. When he removes his hand from Teshima's bottom, calmly snaking his arm around his waist instead and leaning his head with his eyes closed against Teshima's back, Teshima knows exactly what Aoyagi means. He will allow Teshima to finish washing the dishes but he is done tolerating any unnecessary space separating their bodies. Teshima resumes rinsing off the soapy dishes, all the while enjoying the warmth of Aoyagi's torso pressed so comfortably against his back.

Aoyagi doesn't lead often but as soon as Teshima sets the last plate in the drying rack and dries his hands on the dish towel, Aoyagi's slim fingers are sliding around his wrist and he's being lead upstairs to his bedroom. The first kiss of the night comes as soon as Teshima's bedroom door closes behind them. Aoyagi's forearms are sliding over his shoulders and soft lips press against his with an offering. Aoyagi's whole body is unfurling against him in a wave of passion. Teshima's hands go to Aoyagi's waist, pulling his slim hips closer and the most delicious sound, one of pleasure and want and happiness, escapes Aoyagi's throat. Teshima smiles wide against Aoyagi's lips both at the sound he knows no one else has ever heard from Aoyagi and at the distinct form of Aoyagi's hardness he can feel through the other's jeans pressing into his own hip.

"Hajime," Teshima breathes, taking another kiss which the smiling muscles in his cheeks almost resist.

"I want to lead tonight, Junta." Aoyagi's voice is husky, as husky as that soft tenor voice can get, and the earnestness of the statement sends a thrill down Teshima's spine. Aoyagi doesn't lead often so it's always a pleasant surprise to Teshima when he makes this declaration. He moans softly in anticipation of the unexpected turn of events and murmurs "okay" before diving in for another kiss.

Teshima's hands slide up over Aoyagi's sides, his ribs, his pectorals, to his shoulders as Aoyagi's hands fall to Teshima's waist and waste no time gliding under his shirt to caress the skin of his belly. Aoyagi's thumbs slip into the sensitive hollows of Teshima's pelvis, his fingers curving around the hips to guide him back toward the bed. Step for step, Teshima responds to the delicate shifts in pressure. His eyes are closed, his mouth leaving a trail of nibbling kisses down Aoyagi's jaw line, he steps without hesitation under Aoyagi's confident lead until he feels the gentle pull of fingers slowing him before his calves bump up against the edge of the bed.

Reflexively, Teshima sinks to the mattress at the same rate Aoyagi's hands travel up pulling Teshima's shirt off with them. The shirt is aimed in the vicinity of the dirty clothes basket but Aoyagi's eyes and hands are back on Teshima's chest before he can see where the garment lands.

Teshima's hands find the curve of Aoyagi's bottom just as Aoyagi's fingers brush over his dusky nipples, anchoring themselves as their bodies banish the space between them again. Teshima scoots back on the bed, his hands coaxing Aoyagi up to kneel up with a leg on either side of him. Their mouths hotly press against each other. Aoyagi's tongue slides along the roof of Teshima's mouth sending a jolt of electric straight down to Teshima's manhood which is already straining against the fabric of his shorts. He shifts his hips up, bumping them into Aoyagi's and is met with a guttural noise of urgency as Aoyagi's hips grind forcefully back down, the friction causing them both to groan in pleasure. This is what Teshima loves about letting Aoyagi lead: the unexpected reactions he gets out of the man when the other takes control.

Teshima's fingers are sliding enticingly along the skin just above Aoyagi's waist band, fiddling with the hem of the black t-shirt. If Teshima were leading, the shirt would certainly be off by now, but with Aoyagi so engrossed in kissing him, there was no breaking their contact until Aoyagi decided it was time. "Shirt," he murmurs against Aoyagi's lips, giving a meaningful little tug on the fabric during a moment when they separate for air. Aoyagi steals another kiss, nodding in affirmation to the request before shifting off the bed to pull the shirt over his head.

Teshima takes the opportunity to reach down and pull off his socks, shuffling up to properly recline against the two star-patterned pillows propped against his headboard. Then Aoyagi is right there with him, leaning over him so they can feel the heat radiating off each other's half naked bodies and so that Aoyagi's disheveled blond hair is hanging down around their faces as their lips come in contact again. One of Aoyagi's hands intentionally caresses the fabric covering Teshima's hardness on its way upwards causing him to moan and gently scrape his fingernails along the skin of Aoyagi's torso though the motion of wrapping his arms around him to bring their bodies closer.

The next item to go doesn't reveal much but it's Aoyagi's favorite part of undressing Teshima. He tugs on the hair tie restraining Teshima's curls and Teshima compliantly shakes them out. Aoyagi's nose is buried in them, his lips nipping the skin just behind Teshima's ear before he even finishes the motion. A bubble of laughter erupts from Teshima's chest and Aoyagi smiles giddily into the cook of his neck. He savors the feeling of the soft hair against his face and the lingering scent of Teshima's hair care products. He presses the tips of his finger pads in a massaging motion against Teshima's scalp as he rakes his hands through the curls. This too makes Teshima moan in pleasure and hold their bodies chest to chest.

One of Aoyagi's hands sneaks in between their bodies, searching for the button and zipper on Teshima's cargo shorts. As his fingers find them, Teshima feels the gentle and intimate slide of Aoyagi's cheek brushing against his own and knows what question Aoyagi's following gaze will have. "Yes, please, Hajime," he answers without hesitation when their eyes meet.

Then both of Aoyagi's hands are on his shorts, quickly undoing the fastenings and slipping his thumbs beneath the elastic waistband of his briefs below and pulling everything off together. Teshima bends his legs and shifts up, eager to rid himself of the remaining garments. He feels briefly exposed as he watches Aoyagi next tackle the barrier of his own belt buckle before his jeans are coming off too, his boxers following close behind.

A blush colors Aoyagi's cheeks as he looks back to Teshima and stalls, desire smoldering in his eyes. Teshima realizes how disheveled he must look, spread out on the blue sheets, love bites peppering his skin and his long, curly hair in a disarray, equal lust in his eyes and evident down below. It momentarily makes him self-conscious, but knowing it's Aoyagi who's turned him into this mess, and is the only one who will ever get to see him this way, also turns him on even more.

"Junta…" Aoyagi murmurs, shaking himself out of his revere. He dives in again, burying his face against Teshima's collar bone, lips nipping and teeth gently grazing and driving Teshima wild with the edge of barely contained recklessness that Aoyagi always bares when he is confident. Teshima's hands roam Aoyagi's naked body hungrily, massaging the smooth skin of his back muscles. They slide over the curve of his bottom, dipping teasingly close to the seam between his cheeks, and wrap around the backs of his thighs to tickle the light brown hairs there.

He eyes Aoyagi's lean body as their mouths break for air and Aoyagi leans across him to the bedside table where Teshima keeps his lube and a pack of condoms in one of the drawers. Aoyagi has a petite frame. Sometimes it seems like he's all limbs and Teshima loves that his legs seem to go on forever…especially when they're thrown over his shoulders. But the boy has filled out a bit since high school into more of a man, more toned and less lanky. To Teshima, he's terribly sexy as ever - not that he'd ever say that unless he wanted to seriously make Aoyagi blush.

Aoyagi drops the bottle and foil packet on the bed between Teshima's legs as he readjusts himself. Teshima doesn't know which way this will go; he never knows when Aoyagi leads. When Teshima leads, which is more often for them, he usually prefers to top. But Aoyagi declaring his desire to lead doesn't guarantee he will want to top. Teshima learned this subtle distinction soon after their relationship had progressed to include sexual encounters and he quickly adopted the notion.

Teshima is barraged by more kisses, over his shoulders and his pecks before he finds out the answer. The pop of the lube tube cap reaches his ears through the sounds of their heavy breathing and soft moans and grunts, and his body tenses momentarily in anticipation for the cool, slippery sensation of lube slicked fingers near his entrance. But Aoyagi has turned his head to rest his cheek against Teshima's chest. His eyes stare into a space about 3 feet beyond his nose and his lips are pursed in concentration as his breaths come first shallow, then deep. Teshima can't quite see what's going on past the slope of Aoyagi's back but he doesn't need to. He can feel the tremors coming through Aoyagi's body from where he has one hand tangled in his blond hair, and he can see one of Aoyagi's arms twisted unnaturally up behind himself out of view.

The whimpers and gasps that escape those soft lips he's brought to such a deep pink color with his own make Teshima almost painfully hard. Throwing his head back with a wanton groan, he rubs his fingertips over Aoyagi's scalp with a pleasurable pressure. He doesn't realize his other hand has sought out his aching hardness pulsing against his stomach until he feels he is actively relieving some of the pressure. His hand rests over the length, touching himself just enough to calm the ache, as he savors the sight of Aoyagi stretching himself through half-lidded eyes.

Aoyagi has learned how to go slower since their first time. He's learned that going slower not only gives his body time to adjust to the foreign intrusion but it also draws out the pleasure. He's also learned how taking his time properly stretching himself makes the whole experience better. Teshima knows Aoyagi doesn't want to go slow. That's part of the reason why Teshima usually leads; he's better at taking things slow and making sure the experience isn't painful for Aoyagi. Aoyagi doesn't lead often, but he's learning.

Aoyagi's eyes come back into focus when he removes his fingers from his backside and lifts his head from Teshima's chest. They share a look that seems to stall time for a moment before Aoyagi finds the foil packet between Teshima's legs and presses it into his waiting palm. Teshima slides the condom onto is ready cock as Aoyagi gives himself a few quick strokes with his lube coated hand. They position themselves, by now an easily practiced maneuver, and Aoyagi leans forward to kiss Teshima deeply once more. When he breaks away, he rests his forehead against Teshima's, keeping that connection as he slowly slides down over Teshima's length.

Teshima's eyes are open, watching Aoyagi's face as his hands steady him over his cock. Aoyagi's eyes are closed, but his mouth is open and his breath is coming out in pants that brush across Teshima's cheeks. But it's not an expression of pain, rather one of ecstasy in the feeling of being physically filled with love.

When Aoyagi slides to a halt, fully seated on Teshima's lap, he lets out a breath that almost sounds like relief and his lips are smiling, though his eyes are still closed and his brows are furrowed in concentration like he's trying to remember every sensation of the moment. "Junta," he whispers, and his inner walls clench around Teshima's hardness.

The sound that escapes Teshima's throat is half way between a grunt and moan. He throws his head back and it thunks against the headboard. "Ow…" he mutters.

Aoyagi giggles, the sensation making his body tense and the both of them let out another moan of pleasure. One of Aoyagi's hands comes up to cup the back of Teshima's head and pull him in for a tentative kiss.

Teshima can feel the restrained passion in the kiss as Aoyagi just sits there, adjusting to the feeling of being filled so completely. His body is craving friction and heat but he knows the importance of sitting, breathing, feeling everything. Teshima's fingernails are leaving little crescent moon shaped creases on Aoyagi's hips that will fade in an hour.

Teshima is able to predict Aoyagi's movement just before the other man shifts his weight and slides deliciously up and then down again. This first movement is cautious but when it doesn't provoke any pain, his next movements come faster. At first Teshima tries to meet Aoyagi's movements with thrusts of his own. They build a rhythm, perfectly in sync, their lips and tongues dancing like their bodies.

But Aoyagi leads during sex like he rides his road racer when Teshima gives him the push from behind at the last leg of a race, vaulting him forward towards the finish line. When Aoyagi breaks away, his pace becomes quick and erratic like he's riding for his life. His hips, his legs, his arms and torso - his whole body engages into one whirlwind of uncontrollable passion.

It's certainly not the same as Teshima's style when he's leading, but it leaves Teshima breathless all the same. The friction is mind blowing, building fast and racing towards the climax. He has one of Aoyagi's collarbones between his lips in a kiss that started and got caught in the moment where his brain forgot what his lips were doing. His breath is coming in shallow hitches from his nose against the side of Aoyagi's neck and his fingers grip at Aoyagi's shoulder blades like the other man is his only anchor in this sea of sensations. "Hajime." The name is like a prayer on his lips said from a whisper to a whimper to a moan and a plea.

Aoyagi is not as vocal but Teshima's first name punctuates his small moans and hard breaths. He even finishes quietly, his body tensing up to the point where he stops breathing all together which pulls Teshima over the edge. His cum coats both his and Teshima's stomachs as he collapses on top of the other man. Their bodies shutter against each other for a moment, both of them dazed in the afterglow.

As their breathing returns to normal, Teshima cranes his neck down to nuzzle Aoyagi's hair. The other gets the signal and gingerly shifts his hips up so Teshima can slide out from underneath him. Teshima sits up, a bit dazed, and pulls off the condom, tying it up and putting it in a wad of tissues. He takes a sip of water from the glass he keeps by his bed side, the feeling refreshingly cool and sobering, then offers the glass and box of tissues to Aoyagi before getting up to seek out the bathroom.

When he comes back with two wet washcloths for them to wipe themselves off, Aoyagi cracks an eye open to watch him walk naked across the room in the dim light. Teshima smiles to see Aoyagi there, content in his bed like he belongs, because he certainly does. From the familiar way Aoyagi's hand reaches out for the warm washcloth, to the way he wordlessly insists on Teshima laying back down so he can finish off his evening of leading by cleaning him off, Aoyagi certainly belongs with him.

Teshima lays back against the pillows and allows Aoyagi to dampen his skin with the washcloth. Each touch is loving and sure, built on practice and instinct and something deeper. The washcloths go cold as their lips find each other once more. These kisses are slower, softer, drawn out and explorative. They've known each other for years but each time it seems like a new flame, especially when Aoyagi decides to lead.

Aoyagi doesn't lead often, but Teshima loves it when he does.


End file.
